


Burning Desires

by DoubleDracos



Series: Harry Potter and the Gods of Olympus [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2019-07-24 09:19:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16172177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoubleDracos/pseuds/DoubleDracos
Summary: A companion piece to Phoenix Rising





	1. Theo

Chapter 1: Theo

Smack!

The sound reverberated through the house, the familiar violent crack echoed in Theo's ears and he winced instinctively. His father, drunk, abusing his mother as he was wont to do this summer since Harry Potter had defeated the Dark Lord in Little Hangleton.

It was more than he could handle, he was powerless to intervene with the trace on him, and even if he did have his wand and somehow mustered the courage to step in, his father was far superior with magic. Theo didn't have the guts, his were now churning in the pit of his stomach.

 

He couldn't take this anymore, he had to get out. He grabbed his bag from the foot of his bed, it had been packed for months, ready if he ever managed to find the resolve required to force his body to cooperate with his will. He had to runaway, he had run through the plan a thousand times in his head. He had nowhere to go, no one to turn to and he knew that he couldn't be caught. London; it was familiar enough that he could survive until he had a real plan and big enough he could slip under the veil of anonymity of the city. Clutching the nylon of his rucksack he scanned the hall for danger, senses heightened like a hare ready to make the dash across an open field. He crossed the wooden floor quietly, heart in his mouth, pulse thudding in his eardrums, ears pricked. His hand touched the door knob and he froze, his legs turned to iron weights. Lobotomized by fear, every second lasting for a minute, every second he could be caught. His mother screamed again, jumpstarting Theo back into action, shaking fingers fumbling with the door knob that rattle like a siren. It opened and the air hit his face like a defibrillator. Theo ran and he didn't look back. He didn't stop running, quick on his feet and nimble, flight instinct was powered by the surge of adrenaline that coursed through his veins

Ears pricked and eyes wide like a racehorse out of the gates, Theo ran, wind bit at his face like shards of glass and an unnaturally wide,toothy smile crossed his face. He had done it. He was free.

 

Theo sat in the middle of a playground, on a swing, the chains groaned in protested as he halfheartedly pushed himself back and forth. It was raining, the kind of light drizzle that soaked you to the bone before you had realised, his clothes were soaked and stuck to his ice cold skin, his hair was saturated and weighed down his head. Yet there was a light in the dark; a neon green and hot pink fluorescent signs illuminated the area, the wet asphalt glittered in beckoning colours, whispering the promise of place to warm up.

 

Theo knew he had to get out of the rain so he headed into the gay bar over the road. The bar was painted in a shock of bright colours, or was it just the lights? theo couldn't tell. 2 for 1 cocktail posters were pasted haphazardly over the walls amongst a menagerie of other drink offers. The air was thick with the scent of perspiration and the fumes from the smoke machine from the night before,coating the throat of all those who dare to enter.

Theo made his way to an empty barstool tucked in the corner, away from the vast bar area that left him feeling exposed. As soon as he touched the fraying material, he felt a strong hand group his ass. The owner of the hand leaned over the bar and ordered him a drink without asking or even looking at Theo.

Pushing his russet wet hair back from his sky blue eyes, Theo looked up into the face of a Golden man, who wore a quiver on his back, an easy smile on his face and seemed to have a godly aura to him.

"Drink up, kid"

"What's your name?" Theo asked sceptically, unsure whether to thank the man for the beverage or be offended by the comforting, warm hand that still enveloped his ass. His elocution lessons hadn't covered this kind of situation, regardless Theo was pleasantly surprised by the way it felt and he doubted wizards ventured here, if they did he doubted they would risk exposing their own location at the expense of Theo.

"You can call me Apollo" the golden man replied with a warm smile that instantly made him melt.

The rest of the night passed in a blur for Theodore Nott.

 

SMACK!  
Theo could hear the sound of flesh hitting flesh reverberating through the air.  
Except this time, his Mother was busying herself with arranging Theo's 16th birthday cards on the mantle and it was he who was the object of his father's infamous right hook.  
The screams of Bendis Nott could be heard throughout the household; "No son of mine is a flaming poof! You, you queer, will lay with a FEMALE. Tomorrow. And you best get her pregnant Theodore or mark my words, I will kill you where you stand!" the man's face was turning an unhealthy beet red and foaming at the mouth like a rabid dog, his son stood before him in silence, blinking against the spittle that was firing at him.  
His bottom lip quivered slightly and his bit down on it, drawing blood, in an effort to stay composed or risk another assault.  
"Don't cry Theodore. Don't you DARE cry boy, no man, no son of mine cries. Pathetic!" Bendis was snarling, inches from his son's pale face, his voice dripping with venom and shaking with the rage that coursed through his body.  
"Father I-"  
Bendis cracked Theo in the face, harder this time. He sneered at the boy with disgust in his eyes as he grabbed him by the hair and forced his face, which he was still cradling in shock, backwards so he could see the terror in his eyes.  
"Until you have bedded a wife and secured our line, I have no son" he chucked the shaking boy across the room violently, sending him into the wall and landing in a heap on the floor. Bendis made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat before he walked leisurely back to his seat and took a sip of his firewhiskey, staring across the room blankly.

Theo scrambled to his feet and headed to his room, digging in his draws desperately, sending his clothes over his shoulder in disarray. He grasped the precious object in his hands as he fell to his knee, silent tears streaming down his face.  
He took one last look at the razor blade that glinted malevolently in the light and brought it quickly down his pale flesh, opening his vein with a surgeon's precision, cutting and slashing through that awful Dark Mark. Hot tears burned in his eyes and he let out all of his pain and anger with stinging slices.  
Exhausted, Theodore Nott crawled into bed and cried himself to sleep, knowing that no matter how hard he tried to end it all, the house elf would find him and heal him. He would wake up tomorrow as right as rain, but just a little bit more dead inside, ready to be paraded around by his father like a stallion at stud for whatever pueblooded witch had been signed over by her parents, along with a large dowry no doubt.

 

SMACK!  
Again, Theo heard that oft-repeated sound, except this time he had punched his father in the face. And by the sight of the scarlet torrent flooding from it, he had broken it. Good. Laughing sardonically, without humour, Theo raised his wand and his father's eyes focused on it instantly; they showed no fear, no remorse, they were the same as they always were; cold, dead, unfeeling, the eyes of a predator, a sadist.  
"You have been a shadow over my life far too long, father," he said mockingly. "No more. Avada Kedavra!"  
Thud. Theo stood over his father's corpse, peering down at his father's unblinking eyes with a mix of shock, satisfaction and morbid curiosity. Relief washed over him, cleansing his soul, but still he had expected to feel something a little more... well more. He still felt empty.  
He looked over his shoulder and watched with pride as Harry Potter finally defeated the Dark Lord. It was over, it was finally over.

SMACK!  
Theo was thrown off balance as a raven-haired boy barreled into him. He instinctively wrapped his arms around the boy's small frame and pulled him closer, breathing in his sultry scent and listening to the cathartic sound of his boyfriend's steady heartbeat.

"Theo, you left me" he stated, Theo could hear the pout behind Harry's words.  
Tilting Harry's face up, he kissed his nose gently, a delicate caress of reassurance.  
"I can't leave you Harry, it's impossible to."  
As Harry pressed closer into him, Theo smiled. He had finally found happiness, like a flash of lightning in the endless dead of night.


	2. Chapter 2. Blaise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blaise learns the truth about his mother, and himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this Chapter, Blaise is the first to discover his demigod heritage.  
> Enjoy.  
> ~DoubleDracos

Chapter 2: Blaise  
It was a lazy Tuscan afternoon, Blaise recalled, when his mother told him she had a secret.  
Blaise had just returned to the Zabini Manor in Florence, after spending time with his Uncle Raphael in Venice. 

Blaise could recall sitting on the open balcony by his bedroom, a glass of Venetian Pinot Gris in his hand, a cheese platter in front of him and the smell of Tuscan rain bombarding his nose. Victoria Zabini bustled over to him with a serious expression on her face.   
Blaise craned his neck, looking for husband number 8, thinking that his mother dumped number 8 finally.

Turning his head away from his mother, as he knew she wasn't ready to talk, Blaise continued to savour the scent of Tuscan rain. He was thankful that his mother chose Tuscany, Italy as a place to settle down and raise him. Tuscany was divine.

Victoria watched her son for a moment, helping herself to his cheese platter and wine before clearing her throat.  
“Prezioso, we need to talk.”  
Vivid purple eyes flicked over to her, narrowing slightly.  
“Mamma, you don't need to tell me that you've dumped Stephano” Blaise replied, bored.  
“No, amore. It's not about Stephano.” Replied his mother softly.

Victoria looked at her son. She had been nervous about this day for a long 16 years. How was she to tell him about his true heritage? She decided to be blunt and forward, leaving no room for questions. She would show him her true self. Making sure Blaise was still watching her, Victoria suddenly stood and dropped her humble mortal guise in a flash of white light.   
Blaise stared on in stunned silence. Before him stood a beautiful woman, elegant in splendour, clothed in a simple Greek tunic. There was something awe inspiring and ethereal about her. He was at a loss for words.

Victoria looked at her son. “Amore, I am the Goddess Aphrodite.” She said. Looking his mother up and down, taking in her elegant divinity, Blaise truly smiled, violet eyes twinkling with unrestrained glee and mirth.  
"Well mamma", he said finally, "That explains a lot"


	3. Draco's Christmas surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Draco learns his heritage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the Christmas update of Burning Desires. As stated in the Christmas Update of Phoenix Rising, I will not be doing any updates until the New Year.  
> Hope you and yours have a wonderful Christmas and successful New Year!  
> -DoubleDracos

Chapter 3: Draco

Another year, another successful yule ball, Draco thought as he gazed fondly towards Mother’s large, ostentatious golden Christmas tree, with fairies fluttering through the grand ballroom.  
How Mother did this, Draco had no idea. It was clear she had a gift.  
Picking up his glass of 35 years matured elven whiskey, he took a sip as he left the room. He had enough of Pansy shrieking at him every time they saw each other.

He had just turned 14 and was enjoying life. Aside from his school life. Draco felt on top of the world.  
Sitting by the fire, elven whiskey in his hand, staring out the window to the flurrying snowstorm - which, in his view, was beautiful - Draco allowed his mind to wander. He was looking forward to Christmas Lunch tomorrow. It was a chance for him to be flamboyantly extravagant and play host to his friends, show off how fabulous they knew he was.

Narcissa watched Draco all that day. Yule festivities was his favourite pastime over the holiday break. It had been a rough year for him that year, a hippogriff attacked him, his mad cousin, Sirius Black had escaped Azkaban. Then there was that Potter boy. Draco was obsessed with. Narcissa quietly thought Draco fancied him.  
She watched as her son left the family room and headed up to his rooms. He moved like the young Prince she knew him to be. She resolved that she’d sit down with him at some point tonight and talk to him.

 

The ballroom came to life, bathed in an exquisite golden light, with the flashing blue and tiny laughter of winter fairies as they darted everywhere. Light snow fell where the winter fairies lingered. The Weird Sisters were playing, guests mingling. One could feel the magic of Yuletide, it was palpable. Guests were dancing, enjoying life. Drunks were drinking in the corner, lustful guests were grinding on each other, kissing and swooning. Draco couldn’t tear his eyes away from Oliver Wood and Marcus Flint locking lips. In a strange way, they were a cute-ish couple.

 

Making his way to the family room, seeking a breather, Draco didn’t notice his mother following him, but he did notice lightning sparking from his fingers, startling him.  
Narcissa rushed forward before Draco could faint, carrying him into the library and handing him a book on Ancient Greek myths to read, whilst Lucius perched in a vacant chair, smoking a pipe.  
Narcissa left the room to make sure the dying stages of the party was running smoothly. Over a solid 3 hours of reading, supervised by Lucius, Draco was ready to talk.  
Glancing up, Draco saw his parents watching him.  
“So, the sparks?” He asked. “When you were born, Zeus gave you some powers of lightning, not his full powers as that applies to his son” Narcissa replied smoothly.  
“And who is Zeus’s son?” Draco replied, glancing back down at the book.  
“Theodore Nott” came Lucius’s reply. “There are four demigods born, fated to change the world. Theodore Nott and yourself are two. The Son of Aphrodite and Son of Poseidon are the last two.  
You have people who will follow and aide you. Parkinson is the daughter of an Amazon”  
“So,” Draco mused, “Whos the divine who sired or carried me?”  
“Myself”, Narcissa replied. “I am Hera, Queen of Olympus, and you, Draco, are my child. It will come clear in time why you demigods were born.”

Draco said nothing as he left. His mind was chaos, he needed to go to his room and think.  
“Well,” said Lucius, “That went well”


	4. Harry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry has a chaotic two days

Chapter 4: Harry

Harry hated winter. It was a miserable, wet season with minimal Quidditch and Hagrid’s weird pyro animals fetish. Harry definitely hated winter. The bright side is no bloody Dursley's.  
He brooded to himself as he passed the Great Hall. He had no idea where he was going, Merlin fuck it all, when he bumped into Dumbledore. Great, just what he needed, another bloody lecture from the old man.   
Dumbledore looked down at the musing Saviour, his blue eyes twinkling in amusement. He could tell Harry wasn't in the mood so he strolled away, humming to himself. Besides, it wasn’t his place to tell Harry about his parentage. Well, not today at least. 

Harry trudged his way up to Gryffindor Tower. Passing a window he looked down and saw the usual group of Slytherins he kept an eye on, Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott. Being 15 sucked balls, Harry thought. Here he was checking out bloody Slytherins. He was meant to be looking at girls, or so Vernon always said of Dudley. But Harry was checking out men and, Merlin's balls, those three were just drop dead gorgeous. Harry stepped back from the window, a slight soft gasp lost on his tongue as Theodore looked up. Somehow, Theodore always knew when Harry was watching them. Shaking his head to loosen those thoughts, Harry picked up his pace, nearly running to the Gryffindor Common Rooms.

Harry sat on his favourite couch with a thud, only for a book to whack the back of his head. “Hello, ‘Mione,” he said, as Ron sat by him. Hermione was still in a bad mood about Harry skipping dinner. Ignoring him, she continued to read up on Greek Myths. She had no idea why, but she was drawn to it.  
“So, Harry, any plans for Christmas?” Ron asked, knowing without a doubt that Harry was planning to stay at school.  
“Same old”, Harry grunted out, as he stared into the fire.  
Rain continued to pelt the window as they sat there, in silence. Before long, Harry decided to go to bed. As he did so, the rain eased up. Hermione noticed this and turned to Ron.  
“Did you notice the rain ease up?”  
“Yea,” Ron said, “Is Harry an elemental?”  
Hermione glanced down at her book, open on the chapter of Poseidon.  
“Maybe, or perhaps he's something more” she mused.

The next day, Harry had not given up brooding. Hermione and Ron glanced worriedly at each other as Harry stared morosely at his breakfast. He didn’t notice his friends glance, nor the lustful stare of Theodore Nott. Theodore was planning to make his move. All Harry noticed was a house elf pop up with a letter from Dumbledore, summoning him to him like, right now. Oh, and bring Miss Granger to if not too inconvenient. Great. There goes breakfast.

Harry and Hermione made their way up to the Headmaster’s office, leaving Ron alone with his chicken, to fend off the advancing Theo. Hermione was at a loss. Was she going to be suspended? Were her grades not good enough? Merlin’s sweet balls her parents would be disappointed. Harry, on the other hand, was over it. He hated the special attention from Dumbledore. He hated being the Savior. He thought that everyone would leave him alone after his defeat of Tommy Snakeface back in March. And he hated the large ostentatious double doors he stood in front of.

Fawkes trilled as Dumbledore bade Harry and Hermione entry. He watched as Harry grumpily slouched through the antechamber and Hermione gazed about in awe as she walked towards him. Offering them both a seat, sweet tea and lemon drops, Dumbledore sat down behind his desk, his eyes twinkling at them. Something else Harry hated. “Um, sir?” Hermione asked tentatively, “Why are we here?”  
“For the truth, Miss Granger” came the soft reply, eyes still twinkling, “Something I'm sure you're close to guessing” Dumbledore gestured to the book of Greek Myths Hermione still clutched. Harry still looked blanked face as usual. So Dumbledore gave him the rundown, on how James Potter was an aspect of sorts of the God Poseidon and how that makes Harry a son of Poseidon. He then explained how Hermione came from a race of Amazons, her mother being descended from the Queen Hippolyta and how James Potter had appointed her his Royal Guard. Predictably, Harry lashed out. When he had finished, Hermione and Harry had reached the ground floor before being accosted by the Weird Sisters playing Elvis Presley’s “Can't Help Falling In Love”. Hermione saw Theo approach Harry before he did. “Harry?” Harry started, looking at Theo inquisitively, failing to notice Rons approving look “Will you do me the honour of courting me?”  
Harry gulped out a yes before he was tackle hugged by a very relieved Theo. Ron explained to Hermione that they were chosen as chaperones. “As long as he makes Harry happy” replied Hermione


	5. Kronos reborn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS  
> Cannibalism, blood. DO NOT READ THIS CHAPTER UNLESS YOU HAVE READ ENTER DRACO, CHAPTER 5 OF PHOENIX RISING.  
> THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS A TIME JUMP

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chaíre, Krónos, oi stratiés sou periménoun tin entolí sou translates to Hail, Kronos, your armies await your command

It was a dark, forbidding area that one Vincent Crabbe found himself in. Damp. Mysterious. He hated it, it was worse than Slytherin Dorm. He had a vague idea what he was doing, but not why he was in Greece at the base of Mt Othrys. He hated this place. He hated the Golden Mt Olympus, 42 hours North of him.  
He headed further into the base of Mt Othrys, into what he was sure was his private hell.

Titans flanked the corridor each side. Each of them large and foreboding. Each of them leering down at Crabbe. They knew what his purpose was, but they detested him for he had the scent of the Gods on him. The same Gods who betrayed them. Crius, General of the South, in particular, was itching to fight them. Suddenly Crabbe found himself in front of a pitch black door, so dark even the minimal light in the corridor fled it. Standing guard over it was Atlas, the Commander of Kronos’s Armies. Glaring down at Crabbe, he grunted and opened the door.

Crabbe entered what he thought of as a dark dungeon, no lights illuminating it, bar a golden coffin in the middle of the room. The coffin was so golden, it was blinding. Deep, ominous rumbling from it. Crabbe very heastingly walked forward. Time seemed to crawl as he approached it. He was scared, and very nervous, but he knew it needed to be done, to bring down Harry Potter. He drew up beside the coffin and pushed off the heavy lid. Peering down he lifted a knife and his free hand. He slashed his palm open, blood trickling down on the being in the coffin, soaking into him. All at once, as soon as Crabbe did, candles burst to life as a pillar of dark light shot up through Mt Othrys.   
Emerging from the pillar of dark light, Kronos, Backbiter, Father of Time, emerged, eyes still closed. He was resplendent in his onyx and gold trimmed armour, his scythe glinting on his hip. He opened his fiery red eyes and looked around himself.   
“I HUNGER” he suddenly bellowed. Reaching down, he seized Crabbe, and lifted him to eye level. Then, with no thought, he tossed Crabbe into his mouth and ate him.

He burst through the door, his terrible vengeance written on his face. His Titans reacted as soon as he appeared. Atlas thumped a fist over his chest, and knelt. “Chaíre, Krónos, oi stratiés sou periménoun tin entolí sou!” he bellowed, the other titans repeating him.   
Kronos grinned sardonically. Reckoning was coming for Olympus.


End file.
